


That makes the two of us

by prussium



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Friendship, M/M, Roommates, gap year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2342015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prussium/pseuds/prussium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sometimes you just need to keep your distance from everyone and that’s okay.” Roommates AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That makes the two of us

**Author's Note:**

> A random, badly-written roomies AU for my random, badly-written roomies AU needs.

I haven’t the slightest clue as to how much Arthur detests coming home until the team is informed of Antonio’s emergency departure. He and I are in our room, lazing about and having dinner when we receive the news.

“Antonio’s flight is scheduled this Saturday,” I tell him, reading the announcement from my phone. “Man, I’ll feel even worse if I have to fly in that condition.”

“He doesn’t have much choice, does he? Poor sod. I would have to be on my deathbed if I were to be sent home,” Arthur says and shoves a fistful of fries in his mouth. I’ve never met someone who loves Mickey D’s as much as he loathes Margaret Thatcher. It’s ridiculous. “If you see me unable to get up one day, you should panic because that never happens to me.”

I laugh. “I still can’t believe you applied here to escape from your parents.”

As if attracting karma for bringing up this topic, I trip my way to the trash can – I refuse to call it rubbish bin despite his persistence – across the room. Then I realize the amount of mess I made inside our small communal space within two weeks of roommateship.

“They don’t like me very much and the feeling is mutual,” he says casually, twirling a strand of bubblegum blue hair between his fingers. I appreciate the fact that he pretends not to see my stupid mistake.

“I’m sorry about my mess,” I say, pushing the pile of clothes on the floor with my foot.

“I can live with it, don’t worry,” he says. “My friends at home call me the king of losing things because I’m rubbish like that, so that makes the two of us.”

Arthur is the type of person who doesn’t permit anyone to make fun of him except for himself.

I jump back to my bed and stare at the cracked ceiling, using my arms as a pillow. “Don’t you miss home?”

In a heartbeat, he replies, “Not at all,” and laughs sardonically. “People like us exist outside novels and TV shows, mate.”

I remember the first thing he told me this morning. He woke up in panic because he said he dreamed about being in England again, and that he was relieved to see he was here with me. But still, I’m not sure whether to believe him or not because the look on his face when Skyping with his parents tells me otherwise. I just bite my tongue.

“You?” he asks. “You seem to be a lot more home sick than me.”

Me? Does he honestly think I miss home more than him? This will be my longest time away and I can’t think of a happier time in my entire existence. Away from my family, my friends, and real life for twelve weeks. I wish to stay longer to be honest.

“Maybe a little,” I tell him. “I mean, I’m perfectly comfortable with my new home – my roommate can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but we get along. I’m making a contribution to the betterment of our society while avoiding the negative people in my life. So yeah, I’m better off being away.”

“Fair enough,” he says, a contented smile lingering on his face. He’s probably thinking how to get back to me on my roommate remark.

We don’t say anything for a while.

“Sometimes you just need to keep your distance from everyone and that’s okay,” I tell him.

I have a hard time reading his face especially when he remains quiet, but he seems to agree with me. His failure to retort sarcastically tells me anyway.

I study our team calendar and count the remaining days. The idea of spending Christmas at home makes me feel a little bit down because it’s the time of year when families sit together and pretend to like each other.

“Oh look, it’s 95 days till Christmas!” I say.

He shoots me a mortified look, tearing my enthusiastic remark down to the core. “Oh shush. Shut up! It’s not even Halloween yet!” He looks like he’s ready to lunge at me and rip my head off.

“I don’t want to come home for Christmas either, to tell you the truth,” I say. “We’ll say goodbye to each other and go back to our lives by then. I’ll be stuck with my lousy relatives. I don’t like it.”

“Whose bloody idea is it to think about the holidays anyway?” he asks. He seizes the baseball from my nightstand. For a moment, I think he’s going to toss it to my face, but he aims at the wall opposite him and skillfully catches the ball as it bounces back. He does it repetitively, the rhythm ringing in my ears. Toss and catch. Toss and catch. Toss and catch. “Be a good roommate and I’ll find a way to fit you in my luggage so you can spend it with me instead.”

“You’re taking me with you, really? I’m flattered,” I say, feeling my face heat up all of a sudden. “I didn’t realize you like me that much already.”

Arthur sighs as he catches the ball for the last time. “Let’s not talk about the future,” he says and lies on his side, his back against me.

We fall silent for the second time tonight. He doesn’t go on Facebook like he does every night to check on his friends who started going to uni. Even after acing his A levels, he tells me he’d rather do something else than go to uni for some reasons left unmentioned.

I try dismissing my worries about the future and cling to the hope that my mother will let me stay in our house until I get a job.

“Wanna watch a movie?” I offer.

“If it’s not your ridiculous hero movies, then I don’t mind,” he replies to the wall.

“Oh c’mon! What’s wrong with my hero movies?” I ask, although it’s meant to be rhetorical. “Okay, you choose.”

That seals the deal. I set my laptop on his bed while he collects three humongous bags of chips (crisps, whatever) to share and have him take his pick. We’re making moderate progress on finding similarities – so far we have discovered our common love for McDonalds and cheesecakes. I’m thrilled about how much the remaining ten weeks has in store for us.   

We plop comfortably against our pillows. His bright eyes transfixed on the screen instead of his phone, drawing a blank on his friends who are drinking themselves into oblivion as we coo and laugh at a hundred and one spotted puppies running around London. Outside our room, the world continues its normal rotation.  

We find contentment in the permanent present, leaving the following days unnumbered and letting the future unriddle itself.


End file.
